Freeze-Frame
by StylishRapo
Summary: A certain Candyman was on his quest of jobhunting, and ended up lost in the Frozen North while trying to reach Santa's Workshop. Before the cold could do him in, he manages to find shelter in this unlikely place; it was the Fort of the Snowman. Despite having less than pleasant memories, he takes the risk in asking for directions, not knowing what fate would have in store for him.
1. 1-2

_**Freeze-Frame  
**Written by StylishRapo**  
**_

_1/2_

"Darn it, it's so freakin' cold out here!" Taffy spoke aloud to no one in particular, his arms wrapped around his body in an effort to keep warm, "How does anyone even _live_ in the Frozen North?!" What certainly didn't help was the fact that every step he took was on at least a foot of cold snow, as well as the constant wind buffeting him without relent. Taffy grumbled lowly to himself for another short while, before his eyes gazed upon something that wasn't there before.

Even through the windy snowfall, there was what appeared to be some kind of miniature castle in the distance.

"Holy fizz, finally; some shelter!" Taffy exclaimed, his mood elevating considerably and immediately quickening his pace toward the castle. He let out a small, shaky sigh as he drifted closer. "Maybe I can warm up for a bit, even get some directions to Santa's place..."

With his newfound energy, it didn't take him long before he reached the front door, wasting no time in unwinding one of his arms to knock on it. While waiting for a response, Taffy allowed a bit of curiosity to shine through, glancing around the surroundings of... What seemed to be called "Fort Frosty", judging from the rather large and colorful sign above the door. Giant candy canes stuck out of the ground nearby, and as a clay person based around candy, Taffy could tell that they were unfortunately fake. Ordinary penguins also were loitering around, though he couldn't tell if they were wild or domesticated.

_Must be Bad Mr. Frosty's place,_ Taffy thought to himself, before realizing in horror just what that meant. He quickly shook the thoughts away, before the cold, painful memory could set in. _Nah, he wouldn't try THAT again... It was an accident, right? Just an accident..._

The door opened soon enough, drawing Taffy's attention back to the task at hand. When his gaze met with a strangely muscular snowman (who, as Taffy could remember, was Bad Mr. Frosty himself), he didn't hesitate to state his business.

"Hi, excuse me," He started, doing his best to keep his voice steady against the cold around him, "It's freezin' out here, and I'm pretty much lost. If I could just, ya know, crash for a bit and have some directions to Santa's Workshop, that'd be g-" Taffy was then cut off by the slamming of the door. For a few moments, he was stunned, before getting peeved.

"Rude son of a-!" He muttered to himself, before knocking on the door again, this time more aggressively. "Hey, abominable snowman, open this door! That's not how ya treat visitors! What'd I ever do to ya, anyway?!" The large amount of knocking noise eventually caused the door to swing open again, but this time, Bad Mr. Frosty was angered by Taffy's actions. So much so, that his wooden claws gripped Taffy's eyestalk, stretching it toward his face.

"Word of advice," Was his low-pitched warning, sounding intimidating to behold, "Turn around, get off my property, and go back to wherever you came from." Those choice of words indicated that Bad Mr. Frosty didn't recognize Taffy, and while he should've felt like at least acknowledging this request, he wasn't deterred in the slightest, actually scoffing at the thought.

"Seriously?" Taffy replied sourly, though attempted to pull his eyestalk away from the grip of the snowman, "I already got this far! I ain't givin' up now!" It was then that Bad Mr. Frosty give a sinister smirk at the yellow ClayFighter.

"Well, then allow me to help you get started," He replied, pulling Taffy's body closer, Taffy himself being unable to tell what the snowman was arranging his body into until it was too late. Despite his yells of defiance, it didn't cease, and suddenly he felt himself being stretched forcibly. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered Taffy in the least to stretch his body, but when someone else did it, it was a very unpleasant feeling.

"Have a nice trip, Noodle Boy!" Bad Mr. Frosty spoke again, suddenly releasing and sending Taffy flying off in an unknown direction. He let out another yell of shock, eventually landing in the foot of snow in a crumpled heap. He lay there, dazed, until the sound of the slamming door from afar alerted him again, new rage building from his core. He bolted upright, his aforementioned rage canceling out the cold around him.

"'_Noodle Boy'_?!" Taffy blurted, standing straight up and marching toward the fort once again, hands in tight fists. "That's it! No more Mr. Nice Taffy; if I have to beat ya to a pulp to get some directions, then I'll do it!" Once he got to the entrance, he lifted his left leg, before striking it against the door, hard as he could. However, the action was futile, the door not budging a bit; as well as a sudden, sharp pain shooting up the leg in question. It had been so intense, Taffy found himself crumpling to the ground a second time, it making him unable to stand.

"O-Ow...! Oh... Oh my _God..._"

It took him a while, but he managed to get on his feet again, though kept the injured left limp, resting the weight of his body more toward the right. Once it was bearable to walk on both again, he went to raise his right leg to try once more, but a new idea came to mind, lowering it. Instead, he backed away from the door by several yards, readying himself to run.

_A running start should give me all the strength I need! _He thought in confidence, before beginning to sprint to the door. At close range, he leaped, his right leg jutting out in front of him as the rest of his limbs pressed close to his body. Unlike last time, the door tore off its hinges, and Taffy landed right on it, uninjured. He made a victory stance in pride of his work, his arms risen to the ceiling with a large smirk on his face.

"Yes, I've conquered the door!" He cheered at himself, his eyes then looking straight ahead and lowering his arms to prepare for battle, "Ya hear that, Frosty? I'm gonna kick yer ass!" He left the unhinged door where it was, going off to search for the snowman who angered him so badly. Taffy did notice that his left leg still hurt to walk on, but he didn't let it stop him, searching high and low. As some of his sense returned over time, it was then that Taffy at first realized that the temperature of the fort wasn't much better than the weather outside.

_Figures,_ He thought to himself again, although it didn't stop him, _The weird thing's that it's not buggin' me anymore. Eh, too angry to care. That's probably it._

"What the _Hell_ are you doing in my Fort?" The abrupt comment startled Taffy, stopping in his spot when he'd heard it from behind. He quickly turned, Bad Mr. Frosty not even ten feet from him. "I thought I told you to go home."

"Yeah, and I thought I told _you_," Taffy paused as he approached Bad Mr. Frosty, shrugging off the shock, "-That all I needed was some rest and directions. And what'd ya do? Slam the door in my face, and then shoot me off like a freakin' rubber band! That, _is not,_ how ya treat visitors."

"You're on my property," Bad Mr. Frosty retorted boldly, the taffy ClayFighter not at all intimidating to him despite a small height difference, "I have the right to treat others on it the way I want." Using both of his hands this time, he gripped the top and bottom portions of Taffy's torso, lifting him over his head and stretching him, which caused Taffy to comically stick out his tongue and go wall-eyed from surprise. "And no weak, lanky pieces of clay can tell _ME_ otherwise! You got that, Noodle Boy, or do I have to beat it into you?!"

"Are ya some kinda idiot?" Taffy replied as well as he could once he recovered, though the stretching of his body made it difficult. Since he knew well that he was open to an attack, there was little else he could do, other than squirm helplessly. "Noodles don't... S-Stretch! And my name's not 'Noodle Boy', it's Taffy!"

"I don't care what your name i-wait..." It was then that Bad Mr. Frosty paused, yet kept his grip firm. He had a look of confusion now, feeling as though a memory was just out of his reach, and he wanted to find out what. "That name sounds familiar... Haven't we met before?"

Taffy froze and went limp, his eyes widening at the situation being presented. _I really, really, REALLY don't want to be reminded of this,_ He berated in his head, before forcing himself to switch back to what he was doing before, _It's better if Frosty doesn't remember. I don't want anyone's pity, nor do I even want to..._

"Who cares if we have?" He then blurted, doing the best he could to break free of this bind, physical and mental, "Now put me down, damnit!" He was surprised again when Bad Mr. Frosty did set him down on his feet, but didn't let go. As the snowman studied the stupefied Taffy in front of him further, a realization seemed to occur, suddenly releasing Taffy and stepping back a few paces.

"You... You're..." He couldn't help but stutter, watching as Taffy regained posture, "You're ALIVE!"

* * *

The sound of a ticking clock on a nearby wall was the only thing Taffy could hear as he stood in what appeared to be some kind of living room. He'd been led here and told to wait until Bad Mr. Frosty returned, and while the sound was better than painful silence, it didn't stop Taffy from getting buried in his thoughts. By this point, it was as if the fiery spirit of fighting had been extinguished, thus the coldness of the Fort (which, again, wasn't any better than outside) quickly bothered him.

_Fizz, he knows,_ Were his thoughts as he subconsciously wrapped his arms around his body again to keep warm, _And all 'cause I said my stupid name. I should've just let the 'Noodle Boy' thing go._ He paused, curiously looking his body over. _Huh. I kinda look like one, actually. But what kind of noodle stretches like I do? Ergh, that's not the point..._

When something large had lightly hit him from behind, he nearly had a freak out. He didn't hesitate to turn to the thrower's source, only to see Bad Mr. Frosty from across the room. Taffy regained his cool as quickly as he could, giving the snowman a glare, though it was somewhat faked.

"Don't DO that!" He nearly yelled as Frosty entered the room fully. "I know this is yer Fort, but have _some_ kind of courtesy, will ya? Jeez..." His first response was a small snicker, then a complete ignorance of what he'd just said.

"Look, I don't know how you warmies work," Frosty then continued as he sat himself in a chair made of ice, "So just fix the temperature to your liking." It was then that Taffy noticed that the thing Frosty had thrown at him was an electric blanket, though it was somehow still attached to his back. As if his body was screaming for the warmth, he donned it fully, his glare replaced with a slightly guilty expression. As the temperature was already fair enough, he instead followed Frosty's lead and sat in a different chair; though from then on, he avoided Frosty's gaze.

"Thanks," Was all he could say in response, and it was rather quiet compared to the loud-mouth he was being before. When Frosty noticed the expression on Taffy's face, and how he wasn't going to say much else unless asked, he took this time to change the topic, to one that would interest both of them.

"Now, tell me the real reason why you're here," Frosty interrogated lightly, crossing his arms and waiting for a response. Believing that the awkwardness between them will be pushed aside, Taffy finally looked at Frosty to answer.

"Well, like I said before," He started, his tone still strangely not-loud, "I got lost and needed directions to Santa's Workshop. That's all." This answer was simple, vague, and Taffy wanted to keep it that way.

"And why would you want to go all the way there?" Frosty replied, quirking a snowbrow at the taffy ClayFighter as he worded it in a way to discourage his endeavors, "Wouldn't a warmie like you prefer a climate similar to Muddville, where you wouldn't, well, freeze?"

"C'mon Frosty, it's not like I'd be outside all the time," Taffy retorted, a bit more sourly this time as he rolled his eyes, "Also, what's it to ya? Why would you care if I wanted to work for St. Nick himself?"

"Because," Frosty began, rather bluntly, "I won't have anyone starting to work for that lie-infested walrus." Taffy shut up for a good few moments, unsure if he was supposed to take that as a cruel joke, to be offended, or to take it seriously. It left him confused on how to respond for the longest time, before he had something.

"Awfully rude, don't ya think?" Came the comeback, then a small smirk as he muttered to himself, "No wonder ya don't get anythin'..."

"I heard that!" Frosty rose his voice, it surprising Taffy somewhat, "And don't make any jokes, buster; not about this. Remember the Christmas when we were molded? There was a good, solid four months for that tub of lard to recognize our existence, so tell me: Did _you_ get anything? Did _ANYONE_ get anything?!" As Taffy recalled that year's holiday, as well as the events of the ones that came after, his candy heart sunk.

"... No," He squeaked out, looking away from Frosty, "No one did. No one got anythin' the year after, or the one after that... But weren't we good all those times?"

"Yes, and that's the issue," Frosty nodded in agreement, standing from his ice chair now, "You know how I had that stupid rebellious phase? It's because of _him_ that it happened. It's why I attacked him and got thrown in jail. And you want to know his excuse, Taffhy? His excuse for not getting us anything the past three years?"

"What was it?" Taffy quickly responded, standing with him as the curiosity killed him from inside. "Were we just not good enough? Was it 'cause we were made of clay? That we weren't Human?_ IS HE BIASED?! _Tell me, Frosty!"

"'Oh, I never got your letters'," Frosty answered, imitating the voice of Santa, "'Plus, I was busy those years'. But guess what, he ate the cookies and drank the milk those years, too!" Taffy was silent for a long while, his own realization kicking in. Soon, it took all of Taffy's willpower to keep himself collected as rage tempted him to destroy whatever was closest to his reach. Though, with his stretchy range, this of course meant literally everything in sight.

"I need... To go outside for a bit," He spoke through gritted teeth, turning on his heel, leaving the room and soon, the Fort. Frosty couldn't help but follow, seeing that Taffy had removed the blanket at the doorway, and the penguins had huddled inside the Fort. Upon looking outside, he was sure glad Taffy had decided to take out his rage there, rather than anywhere inside.

From where he was standing, he watched as Taffy pulled one of the fake candy canes out of the ground with relative ease, proceeding to hit it against the ground repeatedly while screaming profanities.


	2. 2-2

_2/2_

"That big ASSHOLE!" Taffy was yelling from the bottom of his candy heart, "We were good, SO GOOD, all those years, and the greedy BASTARD doesn't give us SQUAT! I remember the VERY FIRST CHRISTMAS, when all _I_ wanted was for Icky to come back home; but NOOOO! 'Too busy', MY _ASS!_ Holy SHIT; to think I was gonna WORK for the guy! What the HELL am I gonna do NOW...?!"

It was several more minutes before the loud ranting and violence ceased, but only because Taffy ran out of energy to do such things. He tried using the candy cane for support to stay standing, only to fall to his hands and knees. Even from afar, Frosty could hear him panting deeply, glad that the foot of snow could soften his fall. Figuring that Taffy was now too weak to snap towards him, Frosty grabbed the blanket from the ground, holding it purely with his wooden claws, approaching him cautiously.

While ordinarily Frosty would've found the act of vandalism an offensive sight, he didn't feel bothered by it somehow. Perhaps it was because he knew all too well how Taffy was feeling upon the moment of truth, or that the candy cane didn't even look dented and could quickly be put back where it belonged. The least bit he understood was that it'd be a little hypocritical; he recalled that he did worse things to the walrus and his home, and it was the one thing he wouldn't ever regret.

In fact, he would simply recall it with the phrase, "Good times".

"Better?" Frosty simply asked when he was near the candy ClayFighter. Taffy paused for a few moments, not getting up quite yet, mostly just to avoid Frosty's gaze again.

_Hope he's not too mad 'bout this,_ He thought to himself, realizing his mistake quickly, _Well, he didn't seem mad... But I'm not gonna think I got away with that scott-free, either. If he has a problem with it, he'll say so._

"... How much of that did ya hear?" He chose in reply after a short while, still somewhat out of breath from the aforementioned.

"Enough to know that I've been missing out on whatever's been going on in Clayland," Frosty spoke again, pausing for a bit while Taffy worked to get back onto his feet. He figured that Taffy would push away any sort of help, so instead he allowed the ClayFighter enough time to get up on his own. "You mentioned that you wanted to work for him, yeah, but what would give you that idea? And what's all this about 'Icky coming home'?" The questions bothered Taffy to the core, beginning to feel quite uncomfortable and awkward all over again.

_Please stop pressin' me..._ Was all he could think, though it was a futile action, so he decided to speak in a manner that would try to hint at this. "I'm sure you could ask anyone 'bout that and they would tell ya." Even from the brief silence, Taffy could tell that those words of choice felt and were too forced, so it came to no surprise when Frosty didn't buy it, only continuing to press.

"Why, was Tiny too much for you?" He jokingly asked, "Wouldn't blame you, either. Who in their right mind would just eat broccoli and water, anyway? I'm surprised that Clayland wasn't outright disbanded or someth-"

"No, that's not why!" Taffy snapped in interruption, turning sharply to face Frosty with a new glare, "And I'll have ya know that my real reason's none of yer business! All ya need to care about is the fact that I won't be workin' for that Santa asshole after all; absolutely _nothin' else_, okay?" Frosty didn't seem deterred, instead asking another question.

"Could I at least know that you'll be heading back to Muddville, where it's safer?" Initially, Taffy only huffed in response, his hands curling into fists.

"There's _no way_ I'm goin' back," He spat afterwards, turning away from Frosty, "I'll just keep lookin' elsewhere, I guess. It's not like they'd miss me anyway; they've got _Bonker_; the _AMAZING_ _CLOWN_. Whoop-dee-freakin'-DOO!" The moment that he'd mentioned Bonker, even more rage filled Taffy to the core. As if being able to sense it, Frosty slowly backed off, prepared to see Taffy throw a second tantrum. From a safe distance, he waited it out, not surprised that Taffy yanked the same giant candy cane off the ground and began to do the exact thing he did previously.

Taffy's rather fruity language would be enough to make onions cry.

"Who the HELL does that assclown think he is, takin' my hard-earned spotlight like that?!" Came the loud musings, "Did _I_ do somethin' to him to make him act this way? Nope; I barely even knew the guy, and yet he took SICK PLEASURE in targetin' me! 'Oh, it only makes sense that I'm doing so well'! First of all, _shut up_; second of all, everyone _knows_ I could beat ya at yer own game! Oh, you can bake pies? I could bake a better one in _less time!_ Oh, so flexible, eh? Well guess what; I could stretch myself into positions that you could _NEVER_ comprehend! But hey, APPARENTLY the crowd prefers mediocre clowns!" Like before, eventually the rage wore Taffy out, resulting in him collapsing into the snow on his front, this time the candy cane having a few dents to show for its previous abuse. Taffy let out a muffled yell into the snow, followed by silence.

A few moments after, Taffy attempted to at least sit up, but only managing to rest his upper body weight on his arms. Frosty took this chance to come near Taffy once more, and as he got close to him, he heard panting on top of the neverending breeze. If there was one thing Frosty was beginning to understand, it was that Bonker clearly went too far with what happened, resulting in breaking Taffy to pieces. Of course, Frosty knew the right thing to do was to comfort the ClayFighter, but given the guy's current track record, Frosty was expecting Taffy to lose control of his anger once more at the realization that Frosty had just heard him spout things he initially never intended for him to know about. Normally, Taffy wasn't very strong, but he had quite the berserker mode, it seemed.

After a few moments of considering the options, Frosty decided to opt for comforting, even if it meant he took a beating. If it's what would calm him down, he decided, then it's worth it. Besides, he could take whatever Taffy could dish out, no problem.

Just don't hit back...

"Hey now, you alright?" He asked calmly as he kneeled next to Taffy, only to notice the earlier panting stop.

"No, just... Oh my God, ya heard _all that_, too?" Taffy replied, his voice at first showing irritation, before he simply sighed in defeat. "Well, now ya know the gist of things. Are ya happy now, Bad Mr. Nosy?" Taffy tried once again to sit up and was successful, so he followed with getting to his feet entirely. As Frosty got up with him, he noticed a clear scowl on the other's face, though seemed to understand that it was merely directed at Taffy himself. Frosty chose to not respond to his question, only handing him the blanket.

"Think you're calm enough to stop hitting my cane around?" To the question, Taffy nodded slightly, taking the blanket and wearing it without objection. Once they were inside and back to the room they were in previously, it was then that Taffy finally spoke again; before now, he seemed deep in his thoughts, wondering if it was worthwhile to mention something that could be considered either important or idiotic.

"I didn't wanna trouble ya, before," He began, though hesitantly, "But 'bout a week and a half ago, I ran outta sweets. Thing is, if I go too long without sugar, my mind starts gettin' screwed up." Things seemed to click in place in Frosty's mind, immediately leading Taffy off somewhere else in the Fort.

"Does that explain the bursts of rage?" He asked Taffy, not taking long in reaching a different room.

"Mm-hmm," Taffy replied with a small nod, "Blob called it 'The Bitterness', but I've no freakin' clue how all that science-y stuff works. All I know is that if I keep goin' without sugar, the mood swings will get worse, leadin' into depression and... Eventually rejectin' sugar altogether. Good thing Blob got to me before it gave me a BS reason to do that last part, though..."

"So this happened before," Frosty mused to himself as he looked through every cabinet he could find, "How long did you go without, back then? That is, if I'm not being too much of a 'Bad Mr. Nosy'?" Upon hearing what he'd called Frosty earlier, Taffy gave a genuinely guilty expression, it being enough of an apology when Frosty noticed it.

"Nearly a month, I think," Was the response that came afterward, "And here I thought I could keep it under control this time. Oh, before I forget, sorry ya had to see me like this, and for what I did; breakin' yer door down, actin' rude to ya, pullin' one of yer candy canes out of the ground..." He trailed off when Frosty had finished his search, now carrying a jar of true-to-be-edible candy canes.

"Speaking of which," Frosty began as he pulled one of the many out of the jar, "I don't have much of anything else, so it'll have to do. And don't worry about that; I think you weren't really in control anymore." Taffy gave a grateful nod as he was handed the candy cane. He put half of the curved end into his mouth, biting it off and proceeding to chew. His eyes seemed to light up, although slightly grimacing from the strong mint.

"Whoa, GOD!" He put his other, empty hand near his mouth as he let out a small cough, "Went too long and now I almost can't handle the mint!" When Frosty gave him a look of surprise, Taffy couldn't help but chuckle a bit in embarrassment. "Look, I'll be fine; but I have a feelin' that I'm gonna need more than just one."

As a result, Taffy must've eaten at least five of those candy canes before he set the jar down on a nearby counter. When Frosty looked upon him again, he noticed that Taffy appeared more level-headed than he used to be, even managing to give him a bright, grateful smile. When he saw just how few candy canes were left in the jar, Frosty's coal eyes somehow widened.

Taffy was a trooper to have eaten so many, that was for sure.

"I swear, minty-fresh breath this strong could knock someone out," Taffy smirked lightly as he read Frosty's expression, "I'd eat more if ya had other flavors. Mint... Gets borin' real fast when it's all ya got; no offense." Frosty waved the remark off to show that none was taken, before something occurring to his snow mind.

"I can make a mean iced chocolate..."

"What?! Why didn't ya _say so?_" Taffy couldn't help but to blurt out, "That's a hella lot better than just candy canes! Gimme some of that!" Frosty rose one of his snowbrows at him again, which made Taffy realize his haphazard choice of words. He gave a small, awkward chuckle as he tried again, "I mean... Yes, please; that sounds great."

* * *

"Ya know, this isn't really 'iced' chocolate," Taffy said while freely sipping his mug, "It's more like... Hot chocolate, but cold. Not that I'm complainin', of course."

"'Iced' sounds cooler," Frosty shrugged in reply. Taffy thought about this for a moment, before nodding in agreement.

"True that," Was all he said in reply.

It was now sometime later, with both Frosty and Taffy seated in their original chairs, both with their mugs of 'iced' chocolate. When Frosty had begun preparation for the refreshment, he'd told Taffy that it would be a little while before it would be ready. Not being one for wasting time by lazing about, Taffy decided to pass it constructively by offering to fix what he'd done earlier. While it wasn't too much of an issue to rehinge the front door, he had to admit that it was a lot harder to stick the giant candy cane back where it belonged, than it was to pull it out in a blind rage. Yet, he worked diligently, and in a way, enjoyed the challenge it brought him.

"Are ya sure ya don't mind that I dented it up?" He'd asked Frosty when he showed him his handiwork. "I could find a way to pay for a new one, y'know..."

"Hm... Nah," Frosty had replied, "It'll hold a great memory. When anyone asks about it, I'll say, 'Oh, that's from the day when Taffy came over and lost his shit over Santa Clauz. Great day, that was'!" Taffy couldn't help it when he'd snickered.

"How precious...!"

Not long after this, the treat was complete, so the both of them moved back to the living-looking room. While the idle chit-chat and small talk made them believe that the awful memory from two - almost three now - years ago can finally be put behind them and move on, Frosty couldn't help but to have a spark of paranoia concerning Taffy. How long would he last out there with nothing to deflect sugar deficiency? Where would he go from here, if not Muddville? Would he be safe alone once more?

"Taffy." He addressed him simply as he gained a stern stance for the situation. At first, Taffy was too carefree from the much-needed sugar, as well as the prior conversation, to notice this change. Thus, he looked right at Frosty with a brighter smile than the previous one, only asking,

"Yeah?" God, just seeing his expression made Frosty hesitate with what he wanted to say; it was just when Taffy finally became happy and comfortable around him, too. It made him want to back down, but he knew he was too late to do so now.

"It looks like you're at a dead-end, here," Frosty began, now in a more serious, no-nonsense tone, "You're not going back to Muddville, but you have no idea where you're going to go, or what you want to do, and you've long since run out of sugar rations. Can you imagine if this happened again while you were out there by yourself, in a place completely foreign to you? None of us would be there to help while you suffer from inevitable Bitterness!" Taffy frowned from the words, having a dreadful reminder of reality sinking in. Luckily, the risk Frosty had taken didn't make him lose that comfort-ability as well.

"Yeah, I know," Taffy uttered soon afterward with a small sigh, "And even if I wanted to, I wouldn't make it to Muddville unscathed, either. I'm just lucky I found ya, honestly. Any longer out there and I would've been a taffy popsicle..."

"What if I went with you?" Frosty offered after a short while of thought, "From the looks of things, Clayland's falling apart, or is going to." Taffy simply shook his head, though seemed to appreciate the words.

"It wouldn't change the fact that... _He's_ there," Taffy replied, nearly hissing the 'he', "And before ya say anythin' to that; thanks, but don't get yerself involved. It's just a thing between him and I."

"That aside, Ickybod's gone?" Frosty couldn't help but question.

"Yeah, he..." Taffy trailed off for a bit, bittersweet memories rising at the mention of the poltergeist, "He just... Left, the day after Tiny became King. His mansion was gone and everythin'. We didn't even get to say goodbye..." He paused for a while, before biting his lower lip at what he was about to ask, on top of doing the best he could to keep any tears back. "Do ya think it was my fault he left? Like, did he get tired of me, was I holdin' him back somehow, or did I drive him away by bein' a lil' too clingy? I know ya didn't know us very well back then, but an outsider's opinion would help..."

Oh boy, Frosty should've known that something like this would happen the moment he brought up that pumpkin spectre; after all, Ickybod Clay and Taffy were inseparable, if memory served him correctly. He even remembered the night before the first match would begin; the ClayFighters eying up the tournament board to see who's fighting who, when suddenly they noticed an unknown name listed: 'Taffy'. Now, the ClayFighters all knew each other, but not this 'Taffy' person. Then, when a strange, candy-coated being of Clay showed up and nearly fainted from anxiety brought on by the looks on the others' faces, Ickybod Clay had floated in joyously and welcomed him into the crowd. With the pumpkin spectre by his side, the taffy man's nerves were calmed.

Had it already been almost three years? It was then that Frosty just noticed how drastic of a change Taffy's demeanor went through in that time; though to be fair, three years is a normal amount, and today had been the first time seeing him within that length of time.

"No, it couldn't have been your fault," Frosty answered after his pause of thinking, "You should have more faith in your best friend, Taffy. Think about it; why would he just up and leave after that Tournament? He was happy there, wasn't he? And even if he wasn't, the least he would've done was tell you he was going to leave, and make time for a heartfelt goodbye." The words spoken to him did relax Taffy much, but confusion began to root in its place.

"What are ya sayin', Frosty?" He asked, curious as to where that theory could be going. Frosty set his mug down, crossing his arms and giving a dry smile, while Taffy held his mug tight in anticipation.

"What if he was forced to leave?" Frosty didn't say anything more, wanting to let Taffy connect the pieces together on his own. Not long after, he saw Taffy rise to his feet, a small glare growing on his features.

"That's... No, he couldn't have!" He growled, saying moreso to convince himself than Frosty, "The broccoli and water idea was one thing, but this... This is just too much, even for him! Just... Why? Icky never did anythin' bad!" There was a small period of silence, before Frosty asked something else.

"Want to go find out? We can take my snowmobile; it'll get us to the shoreline in a few hours, then take a boat to Muddville." To his surprise, he saw Taffy guzzle down whatever was left of the 'iced' chocolate he had left, then turning to Frosty sternly.

"Hell _yes_."


End file.
